Stuyvesant Cove Park, Rebuilt for Flood Resilience

Stuyvesant Cove has been completely rebuilt since our first visit all the way back in 2010, the first year of this blog. The new Stuyvesant Cove Park is a climate-resilient riverfront park proudly sporting the city's new floodgates and walls. The idea is to prevent what happened during Superstorm Sandy in 2012 from ever happening again, and things are looking pretty decent from today's Stuyvesant Cove.

Entering from the southern end, it easy to see the contrast between the broken-up pavement of the old walkway and the fresh surface of the new Stuyvesant Cove Park.

The next time Poseidon flies into a rage, Floodgate Lucky 13 will save the day, sliding along a track to close up this part of the wall.

I expect little creatures like the one below will have hopped to safety in time. Animals will probably be better weather predictors than whatever shreds of the U.S. government remain by the time the next big storm surge threatens the Mid-Atlantic region.

The sunflowers may not be so lucky. If the water doesn't get 'em, I guess the wind will.

Architecture won't be most people's main reason for visiting Stuyvesant Cove Park. But up at the north end of the park, you'll be struck by the Solar One Environmental Education Center's new home, which includes a performance venue. Solar One's website says that "the Center will be an education destination for thousands of NYC public school children who participate in our Green Design Lab programs each year." The organization has been on site for years, but the built environment here is all new.

One thing almost impossible to find here in the park proper is shade. But the bikers, runners, and relaxers we encountered on our hot-day visit in late September 2025 didn't seem to mind.

A couple of NYC Ferry boats pulled in and out of the Stuyvesant Cove dock during our jaunt.

Past the southern end of the park, the path continues. Eventually it will, presumably, link up with John V. Lindsay East River Park to the south, including the section recently elevated and rebuilt, like Stuyvesant Cove, for climate resilience. Approaching Stuyvesant Cove Park from the southern pathway gives you a good look at the curve of the river, the ferry dock, and in the distance, the United Nations.

There are very few remnants of the old Cove. One is the outcropping visible in this video, which still causes splashy disruptions in the rough waters of the East River.

When those waters rise with the next storm surge, we'll see how well the new floodgates protect the residents and businesses of Manhattan's East Side.

All photos © Oren Hope

James Madison Plaza

A stone's throw from the Manhattan side of the Brooklyn Bridge and the odd new entity called Gotham Park, there's a triangle called James Madison Plaza, along (no surprise) Madison Street. The name "James Madison Plaza" actually combines two nearby street names, Madison Street and St. James Place.

Madison Street got its name back in 1826 when the Bancker family requested the city change the name from Bancker Street because the neighborhood had gotten less desirable, thanks at least in part to a typhus outbreak, as Ephemeral New York relates. One notable nearby house of not-so-great repute was No. 47-49, which in the first half of the 19th century became a venue for a sport called rat baiting. Fighting dogs were loosed into a ring full of captured rats, with humans betting on which dog could kill the most vermin.

Also interestingly, 49 Madison survives, sandwiched between two newer, much bigger apartment buildings.

Rats are still on our minds, of course. Just observe the trash can in James Madison Plaza. Come to think of it, it's sort of surprising that Mayor Adams, the great anti-rat crusader, hasn't thought to revive the wholesome pastime of rat baiting.

The city acquired the land in 1964 and developed it in the late 1970s, planting trees and installing planters. A restoration in 2013 included today's most prominent feature in the little Chinatown park: a polished granite globe, situated in a fountain and turnable by hand (supposedly. I didn't try, seems a smidgen unsanitary.) The sculpture nods to "the international influences of the Chinatown community," according to the contemporary press release, but there's no mention of whose idea or design manifested in the globe, whose polish has somewhat faded over the intervening years.

Also part of the restoration and associated with the fountain are "flowing ribbons of granite pavement."

As in many NYC open spaces, police presence is prominent. Often one sees tall, bright NYPD spotlights, ready to light up at night and shine down to deter wrongdoers.

Rats, like human miscreants, prefer darkness, so maybe the lights help keep them out of the park too. Of course, NYC rodents aren't known for bashfulness. But on my walk-through, on a sunny day in summer, nobody was visibly scavenging except the "rats of the air." (No offense, pigeons. I know we bred you in the first place.)

"Nobody here but us pigeons."

All photos © Oren Hope

Riverdale Park

When you think of New York City's pressurized real estate market, the amount of dedicated parkland along New York City's Hudson River shoreline is pretty astounding. There's Robert F. Wagner Park down by the Battery, Rockefeller Park to the north of it, and then Hudson River Park, which snakes its miles-long way up the riverside. Hudson River Park runs into Riverside Park, which continues lining the river all the way up to the West Harlem Piers. Riverbank State Park juts out over the the water, and Riverside Park continues northward to Fort Washington Park, by the Little Red Lighthouse and the George Washington Bridge.

Further up Manhattan we have Fort Tryon Park, and finally, at the tippy-top of the island, Inwood Hill Park with its remnants of old-growth forest. Continue north and cross Spuyten Duyvil Creek into the Bronx, and before you know it, behold: Riverdale Park, hugging the river for more than a mile.

The city began acquiring these stretches of riverfront property as far back as 1888 to preserve them from development. The New York Central Railroad came through in the 1850s, making the Riverdale neighborhood popular among rich folks who wanted summer mansions. Many beautiful houses on scenic properties remain to be gawked at today.

But Riverdale Park is a marked contrast. Note the trail marker: You can hike a marked trail all the way through the long, thin, 144-acre park.

Trains still run through, but for long stretches of your walk, they might be the only sound you hear, aside from birds, small mammalian wildlife, and the occasional urban hiker or dog walker. The Parks Department website notes that 27 species of birds have been confirmed as breeding in Riverdale Park, including the screech owl.

About 50 of the park's acres are forested, according to the Parks Department, but the impression one gets hiking through is that almost of it is wooded. All is definitely green in the height of summer—so much so that only in a few spots can you get a good glimpse of the river.

The above marker notes, I think, a restoration project that has improved the Alder Brook (or Alderbrook) wetland and surrounding forest, unclogging the sediment from the stream, compacting soil, and replacing invasive vegetation with native varieties.

The Wikipedia page on Riverdale Park details the different sections of the park. The information there is all sourced from a "Riverdale Park Map and Guide" published way back in 1984. (And I feel bad about linking to merely 10-year-old posts on this blog!) So take the info with a grain of salt (or a speck of sod). The Wikipedia page itself was only created in 2022, though, so I would guess that the writer knows of what he speaks. Wave Hill, the beautiful "public garden and cultural center" that adjoins the northern part of the park, published the original map and guide.

Sources mention ruins and relics, like lime kilns. If I saw any, they didn't register as such. I did come upon these witchy-looking structures, though. "Welcome!"...but to what? There was no one inside, not that I could see anyway, but I sure didn't dare enter.

The best way to get to Riverdale Park by public transportation is via MetroNorth. The Riverdale station is at the park's northern end. The Spuyten Duyvil station is near the southern, and also near Henry Hudson Park and the Half-Moon Overlook, as well as Villa Charlotte Brontë. (Spuyten Duyvil Park (or Spuyten Duyvil Shorefront Park) is here too, but when I tried to access it I found it closed, or at least the entrance I found was closed—what dangerous mystery lurks within?).

Above: the view from Half-Moon Overlook
Above: A glimpse of Villa Charlotte Brontë, a fanciful apartment building dating from the 1920s

However you go, wear hiking shoes. There's no climbing to speak of, but a walk through Riverdale Park is a walk on a real forest trail.

All photos © Oren Hope

Gotham Park

Brooklyn has Brooklyn Bridge Park. Why shouldn't the Manhattan side of the famous span have a park too? Now it does. As planned, on completion Gotham Park will be "nine acres of joy, discovery and wonder." Quite a claim.

But Gotham Park is a strange beast. Hiding under the bridge's ramps and not really connected to any particular neighborhood (unless you count the great gated compound of 1 Police Plaza as a neighborhood – technically this is Chinatown, I guess, but you wouldn't know it), the new park is not a creature of the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation.

Instead, it's the brainchild of the New York Department of Transportation, Trinity Church, two Community Boards, and a nonprofit, with support from the mayor's office.

At the inland end there's an enclave for passive recreation. This is all part of what was once, and can now be again, known as The Arches.

Crossing to the area jutting towards the East River, you find a long banked wall perfect for skateboarders, and a fairly wide brick plaza adjoining the arches themselves. Those arches, according to the master plan, will house additional facilities for the community, including a library branch and a museum.

The facilities available now include basketball, pickleball, and, for some reason, shuffleboard.

Sometimes a bit of whimsical art is just what you need, especially right beside a great big police headquarters.

I've been to well over 300 parks in the course of writing this blog, and this is certainly one of the weirder ones. Unusual location. Unusual layout (determined by the unusual location). Interesting choice of facilities. And an unusual genesis. It's an oddball all right.

A park from an alternate universe?

Still, any place that gets skaters off the sidewalks is all right by me! Welcome back, Brooklyn Bridge Banks.

Also always welcome: touches of whimsy.

All photos © Oren Hope

Orchard Beach in Summer

Park Odyssey's first trip to Orchard Beach was on a chilly spring day in the early throes of the pandemic. We returned this summer for an Urban Park Rangers tide pool walk, which started at the Nature Center. While there, we made it a "beach day" too. Which, for us, usually means an hour or two at most, taking turns going in the water.

Down the middle of the photo below you can see the transition between the sparsely populated section with no lifeguards (on the left) and the crowded part of the beach where the swimming zone starts (on the right). The lifeguards were pretty strict about keeping swimmers out of the water outside the zone.

The beach is a long curve of sand built on landfill at the innermost armpit of Long Island Sound. The water's very calm, with no waves to speak of. And you can go quite far out and it's still only up to your waist.

But back to our main plot: Armed with nets supplied by the Nature Center, our group walked out towards the rocks at a point far from the crowds.

Did this tide-pool excursion mostly draw parents with their kids? Sure. But clearly we, Mr. and Mrs. Odyssey, are in a certain way kids at heart.

After catching, viewing, and releasing a whole assortment of small sea creatures temporarily stranded in tide pools (tiny fish, clams, etc. – even a jellyfish), we took a mini-hike to a spot at the edge of one of the adjacent former islands (now attached by landfill) to look at the hermit crabs scuttling in and out of their holes in the sand.

When the party broke up we headed to the beach to partake of the sun and sand, and do a little "swimming." Other beachgoers, though, were enjoying the grass and trees – or partying like it was Labor Day weekend.

Condé Nast Traveler recently named Orchard Beach one of the best beaches near New York City. But there's a caveat: There are no fewer than 17 beaches on the list. So, is Orchard Beach really New York City's "Riviera"? It depends how far you want to stretch your imagination. For sure, though, the Bronx's only beach stretches a long mile-and-change, fronts swimmable waters, and is absolutely right here in NYC.

All photos © Oren Hope